


𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄(𝐍'𝐓) 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

by cultjoonie (orphan_account)



Category: NCT (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Angel Kim Taehyung | V, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Crossdressing, Explicit Language, Fallen Angel Jeon Jungkook, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Self-Harm, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 14:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cultjoonie
Summary: jeongguk (21) is an assasin working for the infamous "Brotherhood," a discreet gang organization ran by min yoongi. after falling in love with (literal) angel, kim taehyung, taehyung is kidnapped by the hands of the korean government in order to experiment on him. gguk must save his angel, but will he defy min yoongi's wishes in order to?𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠.





	1. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄: 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

**Author's Note:**

> heyo. this is a repost of an old story. i began writing this but decided to delete most and start clean. hooefully i relive up to the expectations of any ody who reads this. ♡ 
> 
> \- will deal with topics such as self harm, depression, anxiety, sex trafficking, childhood sexual assault, && blood n gore. please read tags before proceeding. do not put yourself in danger because this seems interesting. stay safe ♡ 
> 
> \- there will be a couple other characters that are either from a k group or a made up person. this helps fuel my plot. 
> 
> \- i will try my best to make either a padlet and/or playlist. 
> 
>  
> 
> thank you for reading, or re-reading if you do. i think starting over will benefit me quite well.

_THEN._

the first time he meets taehyung is one of the most unlikely ways possible. the way jeongguk sees it, it’s a joke. a whole joke, to bring him back from the depths of which he dug himself into. finally, opening the gates of light to invade this dark mindset he’s trained to stay in. it’s still a joke. 

maybe not a good one. 

but a joke, nonethess. 

  
the surprise is jeongguk holding the gun to the boy’s small face.

 

now, time for the payoff.

 

* * *

 

  
brown.  
  
big brown eyes in fear. despite the absolute fear in them, they scintillate in the moon’s luster.  
  
and sweaty, sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead. jeongguk looks at the boy through his aim. he doesn’t realize he’s stopped what he’s doing, panting after chasing the thing down through the alley.

he heard his sharp cries at the boy tried to dig the tranquilizers out of skin before it took effect. he was crying harshly in the night, before finally gripping it and tugging hard enough for a loud pop to be heard as it retracted from his skin. the boy moaned in pain, trying hard to not cry.

by this time, jeongguk was interested in what he was doing and had lowered his gun to stare the boy.

“p-please, whatever you’re g-going to do, just finish it already, p-please it hurts,” he whimpered. jeongguk kneeled down to stare at the boy, holding his chin in his hands. the boy moaned again in even more as he ghosted over the place where the needle stabbed him.  
  
“how can it hurt that bad? it was a needle, not a knife,” jeongguk hissed at him. he stares in bewilderment and awe, blended smoothly and painted on with a rough hand. the boy sniffled, wiping his eyes. “my s-skin is delicate,” the boy stuttered, face painted with offense. “if you’re going to do something, please hurry.” jeongguk peered back down at the boy’s tanned skin, so soft and pretty. it began to glow a bright red, exposing the veins underneath his skin, pulsating with heat. he stepped back quickly, tripping over his own thick brown boots. the boy lay on the ground for a moment, eyes glossed over as of he was staring into space. jeongguk poked his bare foot, checking if he would react in his dead-like state. the boy only let his eyes retain their focus, and sat up. the boy glared at jeongguk’s slightly embarrassed visage. jeongguk grimaced as he did.  
  
it’s not that jeongguk is afraid of the boy, more or less that he’s teeming with hysterical elation  
  
when the boy saw his deep frown, he finally decided to speak again. the boy bit his lip and said in quiet voice, “are you going to hurt me?”

jeongguk decided in that moment that he didn’t want to. he wanted to learn about this smaller boy who had stolen his heart. he stared into the boy’s honey dripping eyes, giant orbs with stars sparkling in the background.  
  
“no,” he finally answered, unsure. the boy raised his eyebrow, as if saying “are you sure?” he said as such. “no, i’m not going to hurt you,” jeongguk answered again. he swallowed thickly. “so, do you need help getting back?” the boy stood and jeongguk finally noticed he was wearing a skirt. plaid blue. short. “no, i don’t need help getting back. i’m fine.” he brushed it off and adjusted his very large shirt.

“close your mouth sweetheart, you’re letting flies in.” jeongguk snapped it shut immediately. “are you sure? the tranquilizer could still make you got to sleep, just randomly.” the boy pierced him with a gaze. “i don’t need help form the guy that just tried to kill me, thank you very much. now, if you’ll excuse me, i need to get back to my house.” the boy shoved past jeongguk before licking the tip of his finger and testing what direction the wind was blowing and hummed when he realized it was blowing the other way. he turned and winked at jeongguk before taking a running start and spreading his arms as the thin material of the shirt ripped, revealing his large magnificent wings.

jeongguk breath felt like it had been sucked out, almost like a vacuum cleaner. the enthralling look of this very tan boy, flying over rooftops and occasionally looking down at jeongguk’s face to see such wonder, is something jeongguk doesn’t want to forget. his wings are like an amusement park ride, appearing brand new, but who knew how dangerous they were, hidden behind the lustrous wonder of their outward appearance.  
  
they shimmer in the pale moonlight, rustling as the wind carries him across the top of the skyline. the boy landed on a rooftop of an old apartment building, looking down to peer at jeongguk’s open mouth and wide, innocent eyes. the boy winked before softly shouting, “see ya ‘round.”  
  
jeongguk can’t think.  
  
he quietly puts his gun away, trying to contemplate what just happened. he looks back up at the moon, hoping to catch the boy again. unsurprisingly, he doesn’t.  
  
he can't pinpoint his emotion.   


but if he had to guess, 

it would be love. 


	2. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐇

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "in the beginning, there was only ocean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, when you see this, i will be @ work. so please enjoy this tidbit. the chapters will be shorter in the new rendition, and i will edit them as much as i can to my satisfaction. thank you ♡ 
> 
> today's inspo: tea. i drank tea while editing.

_NOW._

“there are monsters in the sea,” he reads aloud. 

  
yes,  
indeed there are.  
  
jeongguk wishes he could believe that there weren’t (to be fair, sea pollution has decreased since one of the new ordinance laws were established), but he knows that something is quietly lurking in the depth of the sea. he wishes he would take these things up with a grain of salt and continue on reading his book. sadly, however, he cannot. he stops on the last page, conjectures over the final word, and then gently dog ears the page to quietly stare out at the han river, listening to the children laugh in the streets.  
  
he sips his chamomile tea, trying to relax and calm down his nerves. he stands to get another tea bag in his quaint kitchen. he pauses before sliding the screen door closed behind him. it's quiet in his apartment. it always is, but now even moreso. he looks at the old wood of the front door, one of the many barriers to let him out of this cramped space. and as much as he would like to open that door and walk down the stairs and laugh with the children outside, he knows he simply cannot.  
  
he knows his place.  
  
it's one the one thing he can remember besides the fact that he had thrown the key down there after being locked into his apartment for so long. the temptation of his front door screams with rebellion, letting the lure and beauty of the wood encroach his judgement.  
  
his heart races as he makes a small left turn towards his kitchen.  
  
he doesn’t know what he’s nervous about. he reaches up from the box of tea he keeps for long days like this one before he pulls too hard and sends a glass cup flying from where it's veen harzardously perched. the glass shatters across his limited counter space, some landing on his foot with mild stings. he stills, resting against the countertop for a moment before looking out at the sun, setting. the rich orange spread across the sky like smooth butter, mixed with hues of blue and lavender, streaking across the sky so all could admire them.  
  
he stood outside his apartment on the window, the only way he could get out of this wretched neighborhood, he closed his eyes, trying to remember what taehyung last looked like. delicate whisps of light brown, wait no, dark brown whisps of hair, framing his face, long and curled in the back.  
  
he imagined himself rescuing taehyung from the capitol building, bridal style, kissing up and down his nose and cheeks.  
  
would his eyes still glimmer when he face was bestowed on jeongguk again?  
  
would he be too late? he drifted off into a soft sleep, nestling his head on the green fire escape.  
  
jeongguk doesn’t dream when he naps. he never has. as a little child when his parents asked him what he dreamed about after his naps, he simply said nothing. he dreamt of his dark, blank mind, as empty as his thoughts in school. in high school he was always napping in class, especially his sociology class, and when his teacher woke him up, he asked, “did you have a good dream?” jeongguk would always reply without missing a beat, “i don’t dream.” he was sent to the principal’s for “smart mouthing a teacher.” he was telling the truth.  
  
and he still doesn’t.  
  
he stares out at the blank canvas in his face, still stares into nothingness, still stares into an abyss. he sometimes wishes he would dream, what his first nap dream would be like. he wonders if they would be nightmares, like the ones he has about tae. sometimes, he would pray to god to dream. he wanted to see what his mind could conjure up.

after turning twenty one though, he has no desire to dream, he longer saw any purpose in his dreams. it was stupid of him to believe that a god would actually be able to give him the “power” to dream. he was such a silly child, he thinks. the green is cold against his head. but it’s still comforting, him and this fire escape.  
  
it might be the only support he has left in his life.  



	3. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "cat's cradle, rat's nest." 
> 
> minor tw:: mentions of abuse && torture, puking up a rat (yknow, normal shit.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited because i am a horrific specimen uwu

he wakes only to see a black cat, staring at him, with narrowed icy blue eyes, his tail curled around his body. “oh, look what the cat dragged in,” jeongguk mumbles gruffly, running his fingers through the cat’s fur.  
  
the cat hissed, his tail puffing up, fur standing, alerting for jeongguk to stop petting him. it instead, raises it's head to jeongguk so he could pet his ears, his favorite spot. it began to pur quietly, before jeongguk stood, hearing the mewling from the small, black pet, turning to grab his small china teacup to take a sip. he chuckled as he turned back around to see that the cat had turned into a small man with black hair, pale skin, and a multitude of tattoos.  
  
the cat like eyes remained.  
  
“your joke’s not funny, if i myself am a cat.” jeongguk chuckles. “i know. i think it’s just funny to see you get heated over a joke about your own species.”  
  
**a scowl**.  
  
most people would be intimidated by this man, in all his glory, despite his height, but jeongguk was not afraid of the notorious min yoongi. he had seen him enough times to be accustomed to his musk (the burliness of smoking wood and tang of blood) and how he presented himself. his ever anxious eyes scanning out the area in case one of president kim’s drones was nearby, though, president kim had no control over this particular neighborhood.  
  
the man rested on the ledge of the balcony, resting his arm upon his bent knee, tilting his head. “is this all you do now?" yoongi said raising his pierced eyebrow.  
  
“well, i have nothing better to do. you're the one who pit me under indefinite house arrest,” jeongguk retorted back.  
  
yoongi chuckled, staring him dead in the eye. “i just came to say hi, kid.”  
  
**a shrug**.  
  
jeongguk scoffed and turned at him with a suspicious look in his eye. “the min yoongi i know doesn’t stop by unless he wants something."  
  
yoongi chuckled. “you see right through me, young man.”  
  
“anybody could with how small you are."  
  
**a snarl**.  
  
yoongi’s eyes flared with flames only visible to a person who saw them almost on the daily. the small man took a deep breathe in and looked in his eyes. “well then, i just wanted to know if you had received any news from minho’s government infiltration plan he had. i assumed he would be the first to tell you," yoongi trailed off, swirling his switch blade over and under the veins in his hands.  
  
“no, i haven’t. the government’s closed down all outside contact to prevent anyone catching a whiff of what they’re doing on the inside.”  
  
yoongi nodded coolly, leaning against the door frame that led to the inside of jeongguk’s apartment. assuming their conversation had ended, jeongguk stood, trying to twist around yoongi to go inside. though the man was smaller, the mafia leader was still tricky, sharp at a needle. exact.  
  
his rings glinted in the setting sun, lamposts flicking on across the city.  
  
“jeon, why is it that i have a feeling you’re not telling the truth?”  
  
to the point.  
  
jeongguk finally ended the small battle and pulled out a cigarette, sitting back down on the fire escape. “boss, i swear on my life, i ain't heard nothin' from nobody."  
he flicked the lighter on.  
  
"no reason to lie about such a thing,” he said between gritted teeth.  
  
he thought about his answers.  
  
of course yoongi knew jeongguk was lying. it was his job to know.  
  
minho and him had been in correspondence since the time that taehyung had been placed in government supervision. minho hadn’t been granted access into tae’s cell though, however he wrote about a small assistant to the president who gossipped about it with him, how empty and cold they kept it. the thermostat was always on one degrees (celsius), no blankets offered to him. he was being injected with all kinds of diseases, and though he healed easily, he was always sick.  
  
jeongguk had punched many holes in his walls because of the details in minho’s letters.  
  
most of the time, he had to ask his friends to buy him drywall or plaster to fix those said holes.  
  
he was disgusted by the actions. exposing the government would only get him in trouble, not only the president means, but by yoongi’s means as well. jeongguk still had a month left of house arrest left, and he would have loved to keep it that way.  
  
if yoongi knew he was having second hand contact with taehyung, he’d make sure that taehyung was for sure killed by another member, if not killed by the government.  
  
yoongi snatched the cigarette out of his hand before his hand could bring the flame to the tip. “smoking is bad, jeonggukkie. what would taehyungie say?”  
  
jeongguk’s nose flared, his eyes sparking with intensity. he dropped the lighter.  
  
it clanged against the balcony, the sound ringing deep in his ears. it reminded him of the handicap he was forced to wear.  
  
“what was that min yoongi?”  
  
**a curl of the fists.**  
  
“nothing, i didn’t say anything.” yoongi smirked, turning his head down so jeongguk wouldn’t see the smugness on his face.  
  
for if he did,  
yoongi would be better off dead.  
  
he whimpered quietly into his dry palms.  
  
“you motherfucker.”  
  
yoongi knew what he said, hitting a raw nerve, something so sensitive and burdened with the sting of melancholy.  
  
“you’ve gone soft, jeongguk,” yoongi once told him.  
  
they were sitting in the annual brotherhood staff intervention meetings, used for all sorts of things yoongi disapproved of (i.e, wearing tank tops during meetings, exercising with their gang tattoo out in the open, wearing sweatpants, hugging..), though jeongguk and many other members agreed, it was just a way for yoongi to make fun of people in his gang and call them out in case they forgot who was their boss.  
  
it couldn’t have been a coincidence that the day he snapped at yoongi for making him stake out a victim in december was a day before the meeting.  
  
but it didn’t matter anyway because he thought he wasn’t going soft.  
  
he thought going soft was for those who were too weak to handle the government’s situation. he thought they were cowards who wouldn’t fight against the tyrant regime. jeongguk knew he could fight, he was capable of defending himself if he even if he found trouble.  
  
but this was all before his infatuation with taehyung. taehyung invited him over for ramen when yoongi paid him late for failing his mission. he bandaged jeongguk’s hands and legs when they had been cut or bruised from training. he carried jeongguk on his back after the attempted arson. taehyung tended to jeongguk when he didn’t himself. he loved taehyung for that.  
  
jeongguk then decided, he wanted to be soft for once. to live with someone, to worry about them. to have said person worry about him. a tear slipped out as yoongi caught it with his finger, letting it trail down his fingers until he wiped it on his black cotton pants. “i have a job for you, jeongguk. i expect it done by the time your latest evaluation,” yoongi said with bite. “you’ll have the information mailed specifically to your door sometime this week or next week.”  
  
jeongguk let a few more tears slip out, holding his head in his hands, bracing for impact as a migraine tore down the walls in his mind, wrecking his head.  
  
he heard a sharp pierce in his ear, ringing louder and louder until more tears gushed out of eyes. pictures of tae flipped through his mind, his beautiful boxy smile morphing into a deep frown. a quiet “jeongguk” screamed through his ears. he could recognize it from anywhere. he whispered softly, “t-taehyung..”  
  
the piercing stopped.  
  
yoongi opened the screen door before pausing to cough. it was rough and dry, just the thought of it making jeongguk’s own throat scratch with anguish. the coughing turned to gagging, gagging turning into a green liquid oozing out of yoongi’s mouth.  
  
a rat spilled from his throat, coated in shiny spit, fur stuck in tufts, its skin rough and red, bleeding out, exposing its rib bones and intestines.  
  
**a slam of the door**.  
  
yoongi didn't have to say, " _i won_."  
  
jeongguk felt it anyway.  
  
he faced back out towards the city.  
  
he didn't need another reminder of his failures.  



	4. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇'𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "therefore thus saith the Lord, behold, i will bring evil upon them, which they shall not be able to escape; and though they shall cry unto me, i will not hearken unto them." jeremiah 11:11 
> 
> MAJOR TW !!!! MENTIONS OF SELF HARM, BLOOD, NON-CON/DUB-CON, brusing, but mostly this is generally a semi blasphemous chapter. i myself am atheist so i apologize to any christian that i might have offended.
> 
> always ! read ! tags ! 
> 
> inspo by the movie "us" by jordan peele

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter semi inspired by the bible verse above. i'm boutta pass out fellas, so goonite ♡ 
> 
> lmk if there are errors!

“you’re getting exactly what you deserve. jeongguk.”  
  
he thinks this as he cuts into his flesh deeper. he doesn’t exactly remember how he got to this state, he just remembers shakily opening his bathroom cabinet, hurriedly pulling out his razor he uses to shave his face, and trying to rip out the sharp metal.  
  
he doesn’t remember stumbling into his bathroom, halfway drunk with a massive headache.  
  
he doesn’t remember burning a polaroid of him and taehyung, posing together.  
  
when he wakes in the morning, it’s probably best he didn’t.  
  
the crimson bled out of the thin lines in his wrist. the blood came out in beads, dripping down his thigh, letting the blood dry and crust against his dry cracked skin, desperate for lotion from peeling. he can only feel the euphoric feeling of cool blood drip down his thick calves.  
  
he rubs his hands over the liquids, closing his eyes from the said coolness, shuddering. jeongguk doesn’t like to think to deep into what he does and why he does. the cuts seems to appear when he thinks about taehyung too much, trying to keep the angel out of his mind. he doesn’t know why he tries to keep taehyung out, but he does it anyway.  
  
the blood runs dry, staining his beautifully tanned skin.  
  
“fuck,” he laughs lightly, taking in the dryness and breathing in deep the air.  
  
he wished he could see how beautiful taehyung was beyond the photos in his photos, his moles, his strong jawline. he wished he could catch a glimpse of his long cock just one more time, to feed off of it one more time, to pleasure his angel. he feels a tear streak down his face as he thinks about it more. his broad angel wings the spread whenever jeongguk hit his prostate just right, how they fold unfold under his baby’s praise. the many breathless nights, nights that left permanent marks to this day. his scratches on his back that still remained.  
  
he loved looking at them, knowing that they were from his most loved creature, the purest soul on earth. and he liked knowing he tainted the soul with is darkness, with his cigarette smoke and hickeys. he ravished in the knowingness that taehyung’s neck would never heal from the purple and blue love bites. his once glowing neck would now be covered in the most beautifully complex sensations of love.  
  
he gets most of the flakes off, quietly examining his hand, admiring the constellations of his hands. he’s always known that the ink would bleed out with the rest of him. his tattoos on his hands often have slits where he’s decided he’s the least beautiful, sin reincarnate. the only way to go out is the way his own before him did.  
  
in the most blasphemous way possible, at that.  
  
he sometimes ha nightmares about how he fell from heaven. he only remembers landing on the concrete near an intricate gate, from peering over the edge too far. he just wondered what was down there. and others told him it was better up here, somewhere so perfect and jovial. he doesn’t remember feeling jovial though, without knowing how he died, or his origins. or how he died. or how his parents died. he wishes he did.  
  
jeongguk realizes he wishes for a lot of shit, a lot of shit that can’t come true. he does remember has much it hurt when his wings were turned into dust, how he got the intricate forehead details and why his arms are clouded with dirt and grime. the burn in the back of throat as he begged to go back. this hell wasn’t worth it, certainly not the magma pools or the man standing above him, gazing at him so perfectly. jeongguk does remember his insides burn as the man roughly fucked him into an oblivion, consistently whispering “such a good boy, you are,” and variations of “baby, you feel so nice.”  
  
and he tries so hard to forget, what he felt like after being shoved off his bed. the coals of the floor stung his already bruised skin. he can still point out those bruises, trying to hide them for them to only appear again and haunt him. he still remembers the man’s face. strong jawline, elongated nose, gentle eyes that still burned with the embers of hell.  
  
jeongguk’s rebirth was worse, even after being expelled from hell. he had only assumed one could be expelled from heaven, but with of course his luck, he was reincarnated, having to relive another life until he could return to fix his mistakes.  
  
but what mistakes?  
  
how can he fix things he doesn’t even remember about his own life? he lays on his bed, examining the cuts on his arm, coming to the odd actualization that he has in fact made his life worse. he dries his tears with the abrasive cloth he’s wrapped around hand to prevent worse damage, soaking it through until the salt reaches his wounds. it stings but he can’t complain, for complaining would worsen his conditions.  
  
jeongguk wish taehyung could see him now.  
  
oh, how the fiery rains of pity fall on his shoulders.   
  



	5. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "one or two sugar's?" 
> 
> semi filler chapter! youll meet tae soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chuu is my bias in loona, i ♡ her with all my heart but i thought of her personality and how pretty flowers would be on her uwuwuwu

sometimes, jeongguk has nightmares. most people do. but these nightmares, they were violent, usually ending in taehyung’s death, or him crying, manifesting itself into real crying. he would wake up with tears streaming down his face, his pillows and blankets sopping with tears.  
  
he would wake up with bruises and scratches, trying to cover them in an ointment, before going back to bed, attempting to rest before he had to wake up. after these horrific nightmares, he wouldn’t dream. his mind was only a vast black lake of nothingness. this particular nightmare ended with taehyung dying right in his arms, blood trailing down jeongguk’s biceps from his wingless back. he could feel the heat radiating from taehyung’s tiny body. he spotted the lonely pair of wings, fluttering on the soaked ground. they look so despondent.  
  
jeongguk woke with a deep breath, automatically sitting up, all the air escaping his lungs, his chest heavy as if someone had placed a cinder block on top. he breathed in deep the air, his window open, blowing a soft cool breeze towards his bed. he rested his head back on his pillow, trying to catch his breath. he knew he was short on time, he needed to save taehyung but he wasn’t allowed to leave his small complex. he felt trapped.  
  
like he was sinking.  
  
waves crashing over him, drowning in his sheets.  
  
his walls crumbled to pieces. he had spent so much time building them back up. unfortunately, it seemed he never could get them to stay in one place. he was hyperventilating, short quick breaths escaping his chapped lips.  
  
you’re fine, jeongguk. breathe baby. tae’s voice rang in his ears, the one person who truly comforted him.  
  
   
he sat with his head in his hands for a while, trying not to let the reminders of the honeysuckle voice distract him this week’s latest mission. his phone dinged with a message. trying to control his breath, he scrambled away from the sweat ridden sheets, feeling like he would drown in them.  
  
they clawed at his ankles anyway.

𝐉𝐚𝐞 (𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗-3806)

hey Gguk, i'm bringing you coffee  
be up or i will kick down your door  
idc if your boss gets mad,,,, jk jk i would PISS MYSELF  
just be ready 

  
jeongguk smiles a little. jaehyun always comforts him, even if it’s by a text message. he types a reply back, throwing his phone onto his desk, flipping on the light.

𝐌𝐄

thanks jae 

 

𝐉𝐚𝐞 (𝐗𝐗𝐗-𝐗𝐗𝐗-3806)

yeah yeah no prob,,,,, but seriously be ready

  
he throws his phone back on the bed after sending a smalm thumbs up.  
  
for now, he throws on a plain white tee shirt to cover his bare thighs. he doesn’t open the other side of his closet, afraid to be exposed to his hyung’s heavenly clothing options, glowing brightly even while he’s gone.  
  
he quietly turns on whale music before preparing his small dining room table, barely able to take up any space before his doorbell rings.

 

* * *

 

 

“coffee is always nice,” jaehyun said with a smile. he looks like home, jeongguk thinks. he’s dressed casually in a multicolor sweater (that he knitted himself) and worn jeans from their college days. he also wears an old beaded bracelet that jeongguk bought for him at a craft stand at an open air market and a threaded bracelet that their friend, yugyeom, made for him while on a group vacation. jeongguk looked up from his small espresso cup and felt a smile spread across his face as well. it was like a disease, anyone that gazed at jaehyun’s smile would immediately smile as well. such is the power of a smile. when they were studying during finals for university, jaehyun made six people smile as they walked past. “with great smiling comes great responsibility,” he mused. jeongguk couldn’t breathe for five whole minutes. the memory makes him smile a bit wider, causing jaehyun to look up from his americano. “what?” he asks. “nothing, just a memory,” jeongguk replied smiling at the whip cream that found its way onto jae’s nose. jaehyun laughed lightly and bent back down to sip his coffee.  
  
“sometimes,” jeongguk paused to lower his voice, trying to conjure up words. “sometimes, i wish i could go back to college, y’know? partying, learning something, and i wasn’t trapped in my stupid room all the time.” he gazed around the room, biting his lip. when he turned back around, jaehyun was staring at him intensely. “i wish it was before the prez, y’know?” jaehyun replied. “like, we would still have access to public schools and the parks would still be open and the border wouldn’t be closed and our friends would still be here...” his voice trailed off as jeongguk thought about one of their friend’s from college, chuu she had fought to not be captured, doing everything in her power to prevent being caught.

 

she was gifted with flowers growing out of her skin, beautifully decorating the skin around her face, her arms, her calves. she attracted all, like a siren. she was in jeongguk’s music theory class, always smiling, always sweet. she never hesitated to help someone if they needed it in the class. she was bright, with a hopeful smile and look in her eye that said, “adventure.”

  
  
that was, until, the president announced that all “deformities of south korea will be detained and under government supervision.”

 

she started wearing hoodie to cover her flowers. on the days she didn’t wear a hoodie, her deflexed buds would often strike sadness in the eyes of whoever she walked past. her hair grew out longer, hiding the beautiful irises she kept tucked behind her ears. no more skirts to show her snapdragon’s, instead she had to keep them cut shorter, never letting them grow out too long out of fear of being discovered. she no longer interacted with the students or her friends. jeongguk would smile at her, but she would not reciprocate, not even with a wave, she would turn her head and frown.

 

 

> one day, she wasn’t at school. nobody wondered why, because they already knew what happened. the previous night, it was detailed to the citizens that chuu and her family had been evicted from their home and upon discovery of chuu's “deformities” she was escorted to the capitol building.

  
  
when jeongguk walked into class, noticing her empty seat, he burst into tears as their teacher bit his lip. he quietly broke the news to the students who hadn’t seen the news. the campus became more dull, and the greenhouse, where chuu began gardening club, was burned to the ground.  
  
jeongguk didn’t realize he was crying until jaehyun reached out and held his hand. he’s thankful that jaehyun doesn’t care what his line of work entails, he still supports him and tries his best to make him feel better when jeongguk has those kinds of nightmares, like he did that same morning. it’s long gone, and he won’t remember after today. 

 

he wonders of that's a good thing. 


	6. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐒𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> taehyung hath arrived. 
> 
> minor tw:: mentions of possible sexual assault, dub-con inspection (nothing privital),

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand GOODNIGHT !!!! ♡

sweaty.  
  
and empty. that’s what this bird cage feels like. this must be how birds feel when locked inside. 

 

it's a horrible feeling, the closure getting smaller every single day. 

 

taehyung sits, waiting for the president to arrive for his daily inspection of the beautiful archangel. the door creaked open, light flooding in, making the migraine battling in his brain peirce him a little more.  
  
like a needle, being shoved in by nimble fingers. he shies away from the light, shies away from the pain in his skull, shies away from the large hands that stretch out to stroke his chin. he scrambles in the corner, trying to curl himself tighter into a ball. maybe if he curls small enough, he’ll completely disappear.  
  
“your feathers are still, today. yesterday they were rustled.”  
  
taehyung doesn’t answer the deep voice, he hides his face between his knees, feeling like a little kid again.  
  
he wants to be free.  
  
he sometimes will have lucid dreams about him flying. he can feel the cool wind rustle his hair, glide against his feathers. he can still hear his loud, boisterous laugh before dipping down into the thin alleyways.  
  
he’s snatched from his thoughts as a large palm glides under his chin, tilting it up. there he stands, infamous president kim, known for extracting the hybrids, the demons, the so called, “deformants” of south korea to find out what made them, them. and taehyung resents him. he resents the man that knocked out his own angel, the man who took him away in the night to inflict pain on him, the man that clips his wings everyday to find out how to gain the powers of the supernatural.  
  
his stupidity is laughable, but now taehyung cant do nothing but frown. he doesn’t want to be touched by the man. kim slipped on a pair of latex gloves and opened the cage. taehyung lifted his eyes as the man sauntered over to him.  
  
president kim wedged taehyung’s mouth open, sticking his fingers inside to inspect his gums, his salivary glands exposed, leaking gold, coating his teeth. he stuck his fingers in further, touching the glands, feeling their instant warmth and drawing his hands from taehyung’s mouth, a string of saliva connected from the tips from his fingers to a small glass vial he pulled from his pocket.  
  
the saliva dripped slowly into the vial, making it glow brightly. he capped it with a wooden plug and handed it to his slightly smaller assistant, who’s eyes shimmered in the golden light.  
  
“let the record be set that we have contained some angel saliva, and place it in section A204, under the kim name.” the assistant scribbled in his notebook quickly, before labelling the containment. “got it sir,” the boy said cheerfully. “good, now leave me. be sure that vial gets to the containment station, donghyuck. i have to finish some work here.”  
  
mr. kim dug into his thick brown leather wallet and dug out a silver credit card. “go buy lunch,” he said patting the boy’s head gently. the assis-donghyuck- nodded profusely before exiting the room. the president turned back towards taehyung, smiling with cruel intentions, pulling out a syringe. “now, shall we continue with yesterday’s trial?”  
  
taehyung couldn’t breathe.


	7. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW !!!! MURDER, BLOOD, HEAD CUTTING, GORE 
> 
> please be careful with this chapter, i took some time to write this. read the tags ♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really might just discontinue this shjt jesus

it's around midnight when jeongguk decides to head out for his mission. he opens the doors of this closet, quietly feeling around for his bulletproof vest and slacks. his boots are caked with mud, tinged with red from his last kill, but nonetheless, still in mint condition. they're good enough to get the job done. that's all that matters.  
  
he plucks the cigarette out of his mouth (his fifth one of that night) and pulls the bulky bulletproof vest over his ratty t-shirt. the pants a little baggy over his waist, but his utility belt pulls tight over his hips. it's stuffed with knives, a fresh supply of bullets, and just in case, a pair of nunchucks. his boots are clunky, thick black boots, versace (because, yeah, he's rich, he knows it), gold threaded laces and now caked with mud.  
  
he silently curses to himself, stomping into the small kitchen, reaching for the scrub daddy on the sink and turns on the hot water. it heats slowly but eventually he's knocking the boots together to get the large chunks of mud off his boots. not all of it will come off, but he can scrub as hard as he can before needing to leave. the walk isn't too far from his own apartment complex, so he avoid the main roads, just in case anybody would still be out too late at night.  
  
he notices the apartment complex from the muddy alleyway, destroyed with piss and empty polar pop cups. the building itself is lovely, neatly trimmed small bushes placed delicately in the front, a placid greeting for new renters. a couple roses stand in ceramic urns, dried out though, covered in dry dirt desperately in need of water. only one light glows from the apartment, the fifth floor, directly below the dumpster that smells of rotting cabbage and strong soju. jeongguk takes a step forward, glass crackles beneath his boots, the sound prickling his ears like needles. he keeps a steady hand on his sleek AR-15, freshly polished. a steady hand on the trigger before peering up at the window. the window blares loud piano, probably from a k-pop spotify playlist (there's no way an actual piano is fitting in this bitch), and genuinely calms jeongguk down before he finds a rusted latter near a brown staircase, with a plastic white lawn chair. it's broken, one leg missing and the back completely blown out. he wonders how that's even possible when he hears someone creep up behind him. he swiftly ducks behind the metal trashcan, curling into himself, trying to blend in as best as he can.  
  
the red lambo pulls up by the building with a roar, too polished to actually belong in this part of seoul. though, jeongguk has heard street racing in these parts of the neighborhood, especially with the teens. it's blaring korean trap through its speakers, tuning out the calm piano, obviously oblivious to jeongguk hiding behind the shitty dumpster (literally), quite possibly because of the hotboxing in the back and the loud ass yodels of laughs. the window rolls down slowly, showing a man with red hair and a strong jawline, smile set to a thin line, and white powdered underneath his nose. jeongguk rolls his eyes, but keeps inspecting. the apartment screen door opens cautiously from what he can see, and reveals an old looking man, sniffling into the wind chill.  
  
the red haired man swipes underneath his nose, ridding of the powder keeping his high and smiles at the elderly man.  
  
"mr. choi, always a pleasure to see you," redhead says. his smile is bright despite his outward hypebeast appearance. "any word from taehyung yet?"  
  
taehyung.  
  
this man knows taehyung?  
  
he slowly inches closer, trying to listen in on the conversation.  
  
"no, i'm afraid not hoseok. he could be anywhere by now, possibly back at the bangtan quarters, but mrs. choi and i are so worried. he's never just up and ran like this, i don't know what i did to make him angry, if anything."  
  
the red head, hoseok, pouts and shakes his head. "i'm sure he'll turn up, maybe he's gotta couple favors to fulfill." hoseok winks and smiles wide.  
  
oh, how bad jeongguk wants to stand and reveal himself, take off his medical mask and yell about how taehyung is trapped in a government-controlled sector, how his wings could be withering away any moment now. but he stays calm, just long enough for the man, mr. choi, to ask hoseok to keep a look out for anything before waving him off. the elderly man slowly trembles back inside as hoseok rolls up the window, revs the engine, and speeds off, leaving a cloud of smoke and dust particles in his mist.  
  
jeongguk sits by the dumpster for a little while longer, trying to piece together the conversation. did taehyung live here before? with mr. choi?  
  
and why didn't he tell jeongguk about his obvious street racer friend? he's pretty sure he would remember the handsome, red head if taehyung ever mentioned him.  
  
pretty sure.  
  
he zeroes back in on his mission, and needs to figure out a way to get inside the glowing room. the ladder's too rusty to pull down and climb (automatically causing suspicion if it made any sound) and he can't just walk in holding a 15, that breaks lots of strictly regulated laws of president kim. and probably apartment policy. he crawls around behind and around the building, having a close call when a woman stumbles to her shitty pile of bricks behind the building and (possibly, he's not sure of she was having an acid flashback or if she actually saw the outline of his shadow against the moonlight) having a run-in with what he hopes was only a pile of dog shit. he can only hope so.  
  
he notices a the window has opened slightly, the piano floating airily through his mind when he gets an idea.  
  
jeongguk's tall, okay? he's tall and strong as most of the prostitutes yoongi supplies to his offices have told him. mostly, he just wants to outdo jin in shoulder width (never gonna happen, he knows) but mostly his muscles can help him, even if his beginning intentions were just to beat someone at a game.  
  
he scours the pavement for anything, a handle of some sort before he hears the hurried padding of a person behind him.  
  
he whips around, immediately reaching for his pistol, tucked safely into his harness, facing the skinny sack of shit who ran into the alley.  
  
the skinny man immediately notices the multiple bullets lining jeongguk's jumpsuit, seeing the 15 hang off his shoulder and almost begins to scream. jeongguk quickly runs over to his stiff body, placing an large hand over his mouth, silencing the man for now. he's holding a crowbar in his right arm, almost challenging jeongguk to try and do anything besides keep him quiet.  
  
jeongguk looks him dead in the eyes, pursing his lips to let out a shaky "shh" behind his mask. the guy nods and looks down at jeongguk's hand and then back to jeongguk's face. jeongguk shakes his head no, letting him know that he's not going to be removing his hand anytime soon.  
  
he sneaks his hand around to the man's right arm, right on his pericardium and swirled a little. the man relaxed in his grasp, dropping the crowbar with a loud clang. it clanged throughout the alley,leaving a distressed jeongguk to slowly reach for his pistol. he rustled around before bringing the gun to the guy's head, right on the soft flesh of his temple. he heard a small plea, a whimper of grace.  
  
the man didn't want to die.  
  
but jeongguk smiled and swirled around the man's pressure point before pulling the trigger and feeling the man slip from his hands and onto the piss covered ground. he relished in the sweet BANG of the pistol, causing a slight ruckus. two more lights flicked on as jeongguk stood perfectly still, hearing the wet, choking cough of the man. he used to live in this neighborhood, gunshots were (are) quite common. worst case scenario, the group of thugs in the shitty blue corpse of a house would walk out and check their yard.  
  
he took his boot and pressed down harshly, hearing the coughing become harsh heaves, gasps of pathetic air. he heard the final dry cough before removing boot, digging for his knife.  
  
it was a pretty knife if he had to say so, silver, edged with diamonds to cut through anything. his name was carved into it, claiming the heavily charged weapon as his own. in typical gang fashion, he carved a butterfly onto the man's forehead, the blood trickling out and running down in thick, watery beads. the blood was seeping into the man's scalp, running across his crooked nose, and staining his still open eyes. the night became quiet again, with jeongguk shuffling around around the ladder, finally trying to get the crowbar up to at least the 2nd level of the staircase. he tied a rope to hooked part before jumping to place it on the stairs, hoping his makeshift grappling hook would stick somewhere.  
  
he only cringed when it made the slightest bing of metal against metal and tried climbing. he had only just begun to reach the first floor stairs when thw rope slipped an inch. he gasped into the night air, breathing heavily. he reached for the second level, feeling the flakes of rust against his fingers once he had a hold.  
  
he lifted himself up, folding in so tightly, arms craning up to the next level of the staircase before lifting himself up. there was little noise, a quick scuffle here and there, but otherwise muted. when he reached the fifth floor, vein in his forehead bursting with intensity, he grabbed onto the thin ledge, grip vice like until his knuckles turned white.  
  
he light from the inside flickered until it was completely out, the flick of light shut down the piano inside completely.  
  
he clung to that fucking balcony, swinging his leg up before pushing the window open a little more. he heard the opening of a door and the clicking of it shutting, an old man supposedly going to bed, and slipped through, leaving the window still opened a tad bit before tiptoeing around the room.  
  
it's the living room, a small bluebell printed cotton couch sat in the middle, saggy and probably uncomfortable. a large oak bookshelf was filled to the brim with thick anatomy books, precipitation, and lots of bibles.. too many actually.  
  
he scanned the rest of the room, pictures on the mantelpiece, pictures hanging on the wall, and pictures on a creaky wooden door. he stops to stare at the door, so familiar. he looked at it for too long, before remembering why he was truly here. he shook his head before loading up his gun.  
  
the only approach he could take was an attack, possibly a surprise and shoot, then make his escape as soon as the job is done. he's just about to kick the door down when...  
  
is that taehyung on the wall? a large picture of taehyung?  
  
he looks at the picture of him, an old one, his wings folded behind his back and the boxy grin gracing his lips. he's outside the apartment, wearing a big blue sweater and baggy pants.  
  
jeongguk runs his fingers across the picture's face, looking at the bedroom door that the old man walked into.  
  
he sees red, red.  
  
he sees the bright color of crimson, huffing and ready to charge.  
  
why does this person have pictures of taehyung? he doesn't remember taehyung telling him anything about living with an old man. he would've remembered. he promises himself he would have remembered.  
  
he's kicking the door down before he knows it. he growls as an old man scrambles around, confusion coating his face with sprinkled bits of shock.  
  
jeongguk brings his gun up to his face, aiming 15 right at the front of the man's forehead. directly in the center, ready to shoot right through his brain.  
  
"who are you," jeongguk growls behind his mask. the man is panting, trying to grab at his sheets. his wife is also concerned, tears forming in her eyes.  
  
"you seem to be ignoring my question, sir. i asked who you are," he repeats, voice more groveling than usual.  
  
the man looks at him, seeing the red light aimed at his forehead and swallows. "i-i-i don't know, w-who are y-you?"  
  
"wrong answer," jeongguk lears.  
  
he brings the gun closer to the man's face, finger on the trigger.  
  
"i asked your name, bastard. you don't get to know my name," he spits.  
  
the man looks at his wife, tears streaking down her face and nods as the man grasps her hands.  
  
"i-i'm ch-choi jungw-woo, sir. i live here."  
  
it clicks.  
  
choi jungwoo, that name is so familiar. the bedroom is so familiar the wife, whatever her name was, is so familiar. had he dreamed about this? perhaps deja vu? jeongguk didn't know, and he didn't care to find out.  
  
"why are there pictures of kim taehyung in your apartment, mr. choi?" he snarls. the gun is edging closer to the man, making jeongguk nearly fall into the pink moth-eaten sheets.  
  
"k-kim taehyung, he used to l-live with us-s," the wife stuttered. she was trembling, trying not to let tears stream down her face and out of her eyes.  
  
jeongguk pulled the gun away, lifting it.  
  
"he did?" is voice fell, small and meek, the pitch almost of the wife's. he didn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. taehyung would have told him. he never lied to jeongguk. his mind was crumbling, these people were lying.  
  
"you're lying," he seethed. "taehyung would have told me, you're lying." he held the gun back up to the man's face, finger on the trigger ready to send a bullet straight through his head.  
  
the woman whimpered again, snot running down her disheveled face, smearing over her chin and thin lips.  
  
"p-please, we are telling the truth, sir. please, believe my husband." she was nearly wailing.  
  
the realization wracks through his body almost knocking him over. taehyung's host family.  
  
this where taehyung used to live.  
  
and yoongi wants him to kill his host parents.  
  
of course.  
  
he vaguely remembers taehyung taking him here.  
  
"i just need to get some clothes, ok? this apartment is safe, i'll be right back." he remembers the old woman looking a jeongguk holding taehyung's soft hands and kissing him on the cheek.  
  
"come back soon, taehyung."  
  
he never did.  
  
the man and woman are still shaking, the man reaching for something underneath his pillow.  
  
jeongguk doesn't see the knife, only feels it when the old man slices him on the thigh, feeling the blood seep through his pants.  
  
the man lunges flr jeongguk, not before jeongguk points his gun and shoots.  
  
he misses just barely, the bully skimming the man's ear before he's attacked again, this time the knife aiming for his eye but striking his lip. he races out of the room, hearing the man clamber from the bed and dive into the living room. the man screams and runs for jeongguk, barely ducking in time for the stab. he swiftly kicks the man in the stomach, knocking the geezer down on his knees. he kicks the man in the face and looks for the wife. she's sitting on the bedroom floor crying, waiting for her death more patiently.  
  
jeongguk kneels to her, taking his knife out slowly. he shows it off, letting the moonlight glint off it, show his name for quick second before taking it against her throat. she gasps before grabbing for his wrist.  
  
"please," she whispers. "tell taehyung we love him."  
  
she's evil, trying to pull his heartstrings. he pressed the knife further in, letting the first line of blood erupt from her smooth pale flesh. he presses it deeper, more coming up from the surface until her gullet has been struck through. something takes over him, his primal demon instincts taking over pressing the sharp edge nearly all the way through her neck.  
  
she coughs one last time, blood spraying him in the face. and he delights in the taste of her last breath, the saltiness fueling him to rip the head off. he's trying hard, the sound of blade against her skin is wonderfully treacherous, laughing his ass off. he's psychotic now, gleefully removing the skin around the neck. licking his fingers off with each little bit that squirts onto him.  
  
he hears a groan and yelp, the man standing behind him, aghast and ready to pounce. jeongguk looks back down at the head, her lips painted a pale blue and face nearly white. her eyes are still open in shock and horror. he wishes she could watch him now, see her own body be muddled into a mess of guts and blood strewn out on her bedroom floor.  
  
the man pounces again, pushing jeongguk against the wife, blood coating his backside. he can only laugh, doped up on adrenaline before kneeing the man in the crotch. he falls forward, moaning into jeongguk chest who shoves him off and drags him by his collared pajama top.  
  
he stares down at the man, smiling wickedly and kicks down onto his knees. he shuffles behind the bastard, grabbing his gun and bringing to the back of his head.  
  
he's put him right in front of a picture of taehyung without realizing it.  
  
"one bullet for each year taehyung lived here, mr. choi."  
  
the man says nothing still kneeling.  
  
"tell me now and i won't double it," he sneers, closer in the man's ear.  
  
mr. choi mumbles something incomprehensible before jeongguk yanks back on his dandruff covered locks.  
  
"speak up," he hisses, purposefully getting spit into mr. choi's eyes.  
  
"f-five years, s-sir. he lived here for five years."  
  
jeongguk laughs in the man's face.  
  
"i'll be sure to tell him how pathetic you were in your final moments."  
  
with that, he releases his tight grip on the hair before pulling the trigger.  
  
"one."  
  
the man is dead already, but jeongguk is a man of his word. he provides the next four bullets for the man without hesitation.  
  
mr. choi has slumped forward, blood leaking from the deep whole in his head. jeongguk looks up to the ceiling before zeroing in on the picture of taehyung.  
  
in this one, he's holding a rose, looking down at his feet probably, but it looks like he's peering down at the bloody and busted mr. choi.  
  
and he breaks.  
  
a single tear rolls down his cheek before the gates flood open and more drip down. he's openly wailing, grabbing the picture, hugging it until the frame snaps the glass shatters, smearing blood with his fingers over the man's delicate face. taehyung's face is cracked and bloodied now, but still holding his rose and looking down at his feet.  
  
the tears mix with the blood, splashing up to jeongguk's boots, combing the leftover crusted mud. he slips the photo of taehyung inside his pocket, removing the bloodied and broken frame.  
  
he pats his pocket and washes his hands. there's blood on his clothes, decorating his back, streaked across his face, just overall everywhere.  
  
he pulls his phone from one of the utility pockets before dialing yoongi's burner phone. it rings twice before a garbled, "yes," crackles through the speaker.  
  
"i did your fucking job, boss. it's finished, taehyung's host parents are dead. happy, asshole?"  
  
he hangs up before yoongi can respond and calls jimin.  
  
it rings a couple times but eventually jimin's low, "what," comes through and.  
  
jeongguk breaks again, softly whispering "jiminie.. please help me, i-i did something to taehyungie."  
  
he hears some shuffling, obviously jimin getting out of bed, and finally, "sweetheart, i promise you are okay. i'm on my way now, don't move a muscle." jeongguk quietly responds with a yes before jimin promises he'll go fast to get jeongguk. they hang up, leaving jeongguk stranded in a bloodied apartment.  
  
it's all coming back, the memories of taehyung being taken away, the faces of his caretakers greeting jeongguk when he came to pick taehyung up, all the memories he's spent weeks trying to forget rise to the surface, building back up their walls at the forefront of his mind.  
  
and jeongguk can only laugh pathetically and wipe the salt off his face.  
  
huh, so that's how he feels.  
  
pathetic.  
  


* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments, kudos, constructive criticism are always welcome. 
> 
> cultjoonie on twt ♡ thank u for reading


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